Flight of Fear
by sydiy5bea
Summary: Sully and Nate have a day at the amusement park. Unfortunately, it's not all that amusing for Sully.


It's Friday morning. I drag myself out of bed thinking, _Just one more day, Nate._ I get dressed and walk into the kitchen for breakfast. I begin my daily breakfast routine by popping a piece of toast into the toaster, grabbing a bowl, filling it with the cereal of the day, and pour in some milk. The toaster has dinged by the time I've made my cereal, so I put the bread on a plate, walk over to the little table in the corner of the "dining room", and plop into a seat. Sully sits across from me with a coffee and a cigar, reading the news. "It's one of those days, huh?" he asks as I yawn.

I nod slowly. The bags under my eyes are so heavy, I'm afraid they're going to fall off my face. "I'm probably gonna fall asleep in class today. And I think I'm going to fail my math test," I groan. "You know, the one I stayed up all night studying for?"

Sully studies me a moment and says, "Let's skip school today."

I almost drop my spoon. "What?"

"Why not? You'll have a few more days to study and we get to hang out. We haven't done that in a while."

"Why don't you let me do this every day?"

"Because then it's not special." I roll my eyes and Sully scoots his chair back to get up. "I'm gonna call the school and tell them your aunt died or something." I smile to myself. Sully can be really awesome sometimes.

A few minutes later, he walks back into the room and reclaims his seat. "Alright, I think they bought it. So, what do you want to do today?"

I think for a moment. The possibilities are endless. _What do I want to do?_ I gasp as the thought comes to me. "Rollercoasters!"

Sully frowns. "Can't you think of anything else?"

"You promised you'd take me on one."

"I did, but I don't think I can do it today."

"Oh, please Sully." I pout and make puppy dog eyes. "Please, please, please."

He sighs, "Nate…"

I clasp my hands together and lean across the table. "Pretty please with a cherry on top."

"Oh, alright. But don't say I never did anything for you."

"Yes!" I cheer. "Thanks, Sully."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get your shoes and we'll go."

Sully drives us to Six Flags. It's about 45 minutes down the road, but when we finally get close enough to see it, I begin to see why Sully has his doubts. "They're so big," I say, gaping at the arches of metal. "I've never seen any that tall before."

"Well, this is America where 'bigger means better'," Sully says sarcastically.

He parks the car and we head towards the front gates. I follow him past the ticket booths. "How are we going to get in if we don't have tickets?" I ask.

"How we normally sneak into places we're not supposed to be," he responds. "Climb the fence." After making sure the coast is clear, we jump over. Once inside, we act as though we are just another pair of paying customers. This isn't out of the ordinary for us. It's fun pretending to be someone you're not. Sully swipes a map off a woman passing by and holds it open so we can both read it. "We might as well do the biggest one first and get it over with," he recommends.

My stomach drops a little. "Uh, how 'bout we start with a warm-up ride."

"Dost mine ears deceive me? Is the great Nathan Drake afraid?" Sully teases.

"No." My eyes narrow at the challenge. "I'm not scared. I only suggested it for your sake."

"Yeah, right," Sully laughs. "The coaster's this way."

We walk through the entrance that leads to the end of the line. The name _Flight of Fear_ is painted in big, red letters on an archway, made to look as if they were written in blood. "Aptly named, don't 'cha think?" I comment. Sully grunts in agreement, but says nothing more. The anticipation of the ride must be getting to his head. Now is the perfect time to mess with him. "How many people do you think have died on this rollercoaster?"

"Cut it out, Nate," Sully warns. He knows exactly what I'm trying to do, which makes it all the more fun.

"I mean, there's got to be a reason it's called _Flight of Fear_ , right?"

"I'm being serious, kid."

"Yeah, you're right. Death seems a bit too extreme. What about severed limbs?"

The color visibly drains from his face. "Don't make me drag your butt back to school. What ever happened to 'falling asleep in class'?" He uses air quotes.

"Rollercoasters tend to have kind of a 'wake-up call' effect on people," I say. I stop there, though, because the thought of going back to vectors and 9x-3=15 nauseates me as much as the thought of the rollercoaster.

I try to tell myself I'm excited, but it's hard to shake the inkling of fear in the back of my mind. _It's healthy to have a bit of fear, right?_ I think I've heard that somewhere. The thought comforts me, so I don't question its legitimacy as Sully and I climb into our seats. The lines are relatively short since it's a weekday and not everyone's parents let them take the day off. We pull the safety harnesses over our heads and buckle them to the seats. The 20-something year old man holding a microphone is rattling off instructions, but the sound equipment is showing its age. Plus, I'm sure the guy gets tired of repeating the same four sentences every time a new train enters the boarding platform, so enunciation is not a priority. Two young women come down the rows and pull on the harness, making sure they're secure. I look over at Sully. He's already gripping onto the handles for dear life. "Sully, we haven't even started moving yet," I laugh.

Suddenly, the train jerks forwards and begins its journey to the bottom of the first hill. "Oh, God," he mutters under his breath.

The car in front of us latches onto the chain that will pull us up the first drop. "We're gonna be fine, Sully," I yell over the clicking noise. "We've been in situations way worse than this before."

"None of them involved being strapped to a frigging death trap, though!"

His voice is shaky. Normally, I would feel bad for him, but right now, I need to focus on myself. _What have you gotten yourself into, Nate?_ We are pulled higher and higher. I can almost see the entire layout of the park. The car in front of me starts to even out as it reaches the crest. I feel so vulnerable up here. The wind whips through my hair, but I can't reach my arms up to fix it. I am held high above the earth, powerless to do anything about it. I am at the mercy of the ride. The car seems to be suspended in time as we tip forward, chests pressed against the harness.

Then we drop.

And drop.

And drop.

For the first few milliseconds, I don't know what to do. Do I scream out of delight or fear? Poor Sully goes with the latter option. Halfway down the hill, I decide I like the feeling of flying. On the second hill, I hold my hands up to catch the air.

The ride contains two more hills, a loop-de-loop, a corkscrew, and… I lose my bearings for the last part of the ride. There's a lot of G-force, though. I wonder if this is what astronauts feel like when they're blasting off into space.

As the ride slows to a gradual stop, I exhale. "That was amazing!" I exclaim, enthusiasm and adrenaline pumping through my system.

I look over at Sully. His position hasn't changed much since the beginning of the ride. His knuckles are whiter, though, from gripping the handles tighter. "Well, I'm glad someone had fun," he grumbles.

"Let's do it again!"

"No! No, not again. How about never again…" he rambles as we roll back into the boarding platform and unbuckle.

I walk a few steps ahead of Sully out of the exit ramp. I seem to have a little more spring to my step then he does. "So, what's next?"

"How about a beer?"

I glance at my watch. "Sully, it's only like 11:00. Besides, I can't drink until I'm 21… Unless _somebody_ would waive the rule and—"

"Kid, I wouldn't push my luck today." He tries to keep stern demeanor, but the attempt falls flat when he smiles and puts an arm across my shoulders. "Your day will come, little one."

"But it's so far away," I whine.

"I'll tell you what. If you don't make me ride another one of those God forsaken death traps, I'll give you a sip of my beer. Deal?"

"Deal."

Sully removes his arm and ruffles my hair. "Alright, let's head back this way. I thought I saw a vendor on the way over here."

I laugh. "You could probably spot one from a mile away."

Now it's his turn to laugh. "Make that 20."


End file.
